#prose: santiago marsten.

[sacrialege]

"so nobody else knows about this?"

redwater valley often felt like a place disconnected from the normal world the humans around them lived in. it was well-wooded and well-hidden and there was an entire title given to the person dedicated to keeping their secrets. santiago would know—he'd been the fixer, once, before he became alpha.

it isn't often humans—or other supernaturals, even, aside from the werewolves—were in the know, and santiago took it very seriously. he trusts she won't go around telling their secrets. then again, even if she did—the fixer would take care of it. whatever it took to keep themselves protected.

"very few know," santiago answers. "you included, now. ... redwater valley keeps to itself. we keep human lives, even some living among us, but we don't interfere. we don't kill." a lie, but santiago doesn't mean it quite that way. they don't kill humans—unless it proved absolutely necessary. if his wolves were at risk. "it's not as exciting as it seems, when you get into the day-to-day."

@cursedher

[mythdrawn]

santiago had been tracking nearby kills for weeks, but still it was leading nowhere. it felt like for every step forward he took, it followed with two immediate steps back. whoever was killing these humans, santiago knew was supernatural. no mere human was capable of this. no mere human could keep santiago off their trail so well, not when he had the nose of a wolf. the killer was more so like him than they were their victims. the hunt for them was aggravating, it was infuriating, and it was necessary. the kills were exceedingly violent and bold—santiago’s innate nature might have even regarded them as beautiful—and they were attracting unwanted attention being so close. soon, if santiago didn’t find the killer, curious humans and state officials and the like would come knocking at his door—and he could not have that. his family’s secret, his secret, needed to be protected at all costs.

it was complete chance that santiago stumbled upon the answer when he did. an otherwise normal night at a normal bar, santiago had come to spend a few hours trying to drown his frustration in whiskey when he smelled the blood. it was fresh and intoxicating and overwhelming, and santiago was probably the only one to take notice who it was coming from. he might have been the only one with senses strong enough.

she looked pristine, of course, with not a drop of blood on her, but santiago knows intimately what bloodlust smells like. he’d lived it many times.

with little thought, santiago takes his drink and occupies the seat opposite her. if it wasn’t for his suspicions, it would have been far too forward for his tastes, but santiado didn’t care now, not when his family was at risk. he hoped that from what he knew of her, which, granted was very little, she would be just as keen to keep herself from the public eye here as when she killed. “i notice you haven’t been very kind to the locals. that is you, isn’t it?” if it was her, she would understand. that would be all she needed. “this is my territory. you’re venturing too close and causing problems for my family.”

@9tailedheart   *santiago & rebekah.